Desert Sniper

Having come from over seas on a contract with the TF Industries, this sniper usually keeps to himself and would rather have a nice conversation then anything else. Stationed at Harvest [This is an RP blog for an Arabian Sniper in the TF2 Fandom. He will interact with all manner of people and beings, but it's suggested you read his personnel file first.] This blog is NSFW at times and will contain trigger warnings.

[desertsniper-blog]

۞ Announcement ۞

As of now, this account is on indefinate hiatus. 

I'm not on this account and only wanted to try out rping as a sniper.  It's a great idea and I might come back to him, but I can't juggle alot of OC's so I'm going to stick with the ones closest to my heart and that I feel like I can RP the best. 

That being said, I'd like the mods of Harvest to take this OC off the roster so that the spot can be opened to someone that is on more then me. 

Thank you all for interacting with Husam and if you want to interact with me some more, feel free to look at my main OC or even my personal account. 

Thanks everyone~

-D

[desertsniper-blog]

There is a small screen that flickers.

Even in this time and even in this place, Husam longs for his family.  His son.  There's monitors and screens all over this damn base, so what would be one more?  One of his personal items that he'd brought with him was, what appeared to be, a box with computer part in it.  There is a monitor, and tower for the computer as he unpacks it, having thought he should have done this long ago.  On the desk that is adjacent to this cot, he sets up the computer.  There are wires that he cuts from other computers and runs along the floor of the corridor, snaking them under his door.  In hindsight, he might get into trouble for this action, as stealing resources from the base might be frowned upon, but right now he didn't care.

Working for counter intelligence for his own government had it's perks.  He was no stranger to computer, he just held his guns closer to him then any mother board.  But the keys fell victim to his fleeting fingers and the screen flickered on with that inorganic life.  It would beep and boop, finding connections and rerouting various back doors as to not be traced.  A sniper in corporeal life, he knew that he'd always have to cover his tracks, even if those tracks were in cyber space.  

It's not long before the connection finds home, and he's greeted with a video of his son and his own parents.  The grandparents that he'd left his son with. And so Husam visits with his son for awhile, telling him what the bases are like and of the people that he'd met along the way.  

[brighteyedsniper]

Desertsniper started following you

[brighteyedsniper]

Fishing in his pocket for a moment, the smaller sniper produces a pad of paper and a worn ball point pen. He frowns at it from behind his bandana, trying to discern how exactly to go about answering—he’s really not that great a writer. In a slow, clumsy hand he prints ‘my name is will. nice too meet yu. sorry. i cant speek’ and after a moment of reading it for clarity, holds it out to his new team mate.

Shuffling his quiver on his back, Will hopes this won’t be too much of a problem. It’d only pay off to have good friends in a place like this, if his first impression was anything to go by.  

[desertsniper-blog]

He's taken aback when the other produces a pad of paper.  Even more so when the answer is written down.  Ah, the man couldn't speak.  He's brought back to his war years back home and images of men getting their tongues cut out makes him visibly shudder ever so slightly.  But he smiles and gives a nod.

"Well, it is nice to be meeting you, Will.  We should go get a drink, yes?"

So with the bag already in his hand, he helps the other man, with a hearty pat on the back.  He explains to the other man that he's quite new here and to watch out for that other team.  Those BLU's, as they were.

[wildbarbarian]

Calm Before the Storm… (SFM) by ~RAGEPANDDEMOMAN

my two favorite classes together in the same picture. fun! thank you!

[archiemcphee]

Switzerland-based artist LadyTinuz carefully cut away leaves she found on the ground after an autumn snowfall to create a beautiful series entitled Fall-ing Leaves.

[via My Modern Metropolis]

[splice-mother]

desertsniper started following you

|She glanced at the Sniper| Oh, hello.

[desertsniper-blog]

His brow furrows and without warning, he tugs his head covering down over his eyes, turns around and leaves.

[desertsniper-blog]

۞

Going out.  Will be back later. 

[brighteyedsniper]

Desertsniper started following you

[brighteyedsniper]

Cocking his head to the side, William slings his Huntsman and quiver over his shoulder, settling them comfortably with the SMG he wasn’t used to carrying.  Beneath his Anger, he smiled. How old must this sniper have been? He was bigger than the average and walked with a swagger that spoke of many kills under his belt. Remembering that he had been questioned, Will nodded his head.

Carefully he swept one hand out to encompass the base before them and shrug one shoulder, his head cocked slightly to the left; as if to ask ‘what can you tell me about this place’?  

[desertsniper-blog]

The appearance, or lack there of, an answer, in form, signals one of three things to me.  The man is either to shy to speak, chooses not to, or can't.  Husam hopes for none of the above as each would have it's own set of downfalls.  So he just smiles again.  The head cock, however, is misconstrued.  As much as he was good at looking down the sights of a rifle, he's not as good at reading body language. 

And so the smile turns shyly behind the folds of his purple head covering.

"Do you have a name, friend?  I'm Husam.  I had only come here a week or three ago."

[thecathybrid-deactivated2014121]

He blinks a bit and looks up from his book. “Hello sir…. May I ask how you got in here?”

[desertsniper-blog]

A dark eye brow is raised and he stares at the strange man.  Wouldn't be the first strange person he'd seen in the last few weeks.

"I... oh I uh.. think I've gotten on the wrong path.  Can you direct me back to the city center?"

[brighteyedsniper]

Desertsniper started following you

-Adjusts sunglasses and looks the other sniper over for a long moment before lifting one gloved hand in a vague wave. The other is regrettably busy holding onto his equipment and lone bag of clothing.- 

…!

[desertsniper-blog]

Another recruit, he'd assume.  This one seemed like he needed help, seeing how he struggled with his duffle bag and his equipment.  Seemed younger too.  Smaller.  More impressionable.  The other RED gives a smile, a courteous nod and comes over to help him out. 

"Hello friend.  Just been deployed here?"

[desertsniper-blog]

A cup of coffee was definitely in order.  It was damn cold and the weather didn't agree with his acclimatized body.  He's taken a post in the kitchen, waiting for coffee to brew.

[sweet--serialkiller-blog]

[Whines softly, pulling his blanket up around his shoulders. He still hadn’t cleaned up his room— miscellaneous broken parts and glass and remnants of shattered mirrors all lay on the floor still.]

[desertsniper-blog]

It wasn't too much to notice, on his way to the kitchen to cook himself something warm to protect against the growing cold, did he notice the spy's room, a complete mess.  Slowly, he pokes his head into the room and smiles.

"Hello.  Do you need some help or do you like that mess?"

[slimy-yet-satisfying-deactivate]

I hate the cold.

I hate winter. I hate snow. I hate everything. >:|

[desertsniper-blog]

"My friend, it is quite cold, right?"

[quickscoped]

“Harvest, huh? Got a few acquaintances from there. Not a bad base from wot I hear. Quite lovely.” He takes his hand, giving him a respectable hand shake. “Hu…Husam… did I say that roight? Pleasure to meet’cha. Name’s Dominik Hawker, but most call me ‘Dom’.”

[desertsniper-blog]

The sniper gives a throaty laugh, firmly returning the shake.  "Domineek, huh?  Maybe I just be calling you Dom.  That's good."  There is a soft nod of his head as he takes a seat on the nearest large rock.  A thermos is taken out of his back, which he starts to unscrew.  "Where does your hat hang, friend?  Obviously not Harvest."  A mug is removed and handed to the other man. 

[2sp00ky4me]

((>_>

I wasn’t even sure which blog to stick that on. 

/Isn’t a fan of multi character blogs, or rather, running a multi character blog. You people can do what you want with multiple characters and blogs.

[desertsniper-blog]

[[I suggest you don't write for more then the character that you're replying with. It would totally make sense to me, but to other people, they'd wonder why you're controlling the other OC's.  If you want them to come back in, just let me know and I wont reply right away, giving you an option for a multi post reply?  Does that work better? ]]

[humortrain]

[okamimi]

more painful than any bullet

[desertsniper-blog]

"Then the bullet must have missed, friend."

[slimy-yet-satisfying-deactivate]

Everything.

[desertsniper-blog]

He laughs gently and sits down beside him.

"You want to be talking about it?"